That Call
by Ninjatweety
Summary: No good ever comes from a 3 am call


That Call

As soon as the phone rang, I knew something was wrong. No one, and I mean no one has something good to say at 3 am.

"Banks." I answered gruffly.

"Captain," began the grief-stricken voice of Brian Rafe, "come quick. It's Ellison. He's been shot."

Damn, I knew it was bad.

"Where?"

"County General. The stake out…it went bad, Sir."

"Fill me in when I get there. Where's Sandburg?"

"In the ambulance with Ellison on the way to the hospital."

"Good. I am on my way."

I replaced the handset in the cradle and hung my head. 'Don't you die on me Ellison.'

The emergency room was chaotic when I arrived as always. God, I have been here too many times. I saw my detective, Brian Rafe pacing in front of the admitting desk.

"Brian, where's Jim?"

The startled man turned to face me. "Captain, thank god, the stake out sent bad, Johnson knew we were there and came out shooting. How did he know, Sir? He just came out shooting."

I grabbed him by the shoulders and gently shook him. "Rafe, where is Jim?"

The soft brown eyes finally focused on me. "Um, he was rushed to surgery. He caught two bullets in the chest. The bullets ate right through the vest. Never seen anything like it. Sandburg pushed Jim to the ground, out of the way and kept pressure on the wounds until backup arrived. How did Johnson know?"

Just then Rafe's partner, Henri Brown appeared. "Sir, the doctor needs to talk to you. It's something about consent."

I followed H. Shock evident on his face. "Henri, was anyone else hurt? Sandburg?" The man just shook his head. "Then why does the doctor need my consent?"

"Don't know Sir. He just said to bring you up as soon as you arrived."

A big bulk of a man in surgical scrubs approached us as soon as we stepped off of the elevator. He stuck out his hand as he spoke, "Captain Banks, I am Doctor Alvaretti. I am Detective Ellison's doctor. Jim is out of surgery. As soon as he is in a room I will bring you to him."

"I sorry to interrupt Doctor. But if Jim is out of surgery why do you need me for consent?"

"It's not for Detective Ellison. It's for Detective Sandburg. When he came in he was covered in blood. Everyone assumed that it was his partner's blood, however as he filled out the paperwork one of the nurses noticed a puddle of blood pooling at the young man's feet. Apparently a bullet ripped though Ellison and hit Detective Sandburg." The doctor paused briefly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he began again. "Detective Sandburg is refusing medical attention until he sees Detective Ellison."

"Where is Sandburg now?"

"If you follow me I will bring you to him. We are afraid that he will further injure himself. None of our nurses can get near him." We stopped in front of a door. "He is very agitated and needs medical attention immediately."

I stepped into the room to find Sandburg pacing madly around the room, blood flowing from his side. He was muttering to himself. He barely registered my approach.

"Blair." The pain in those expressive blue eyes was nearly unbearable. "You are hurt, you need help."

"Jim was shot. He lost so much blood Simon. I couldn't stop it." Tears flowed down his cheeks. He began pacing again.

"You helped Blair. You kept him alive long enough to get him here. Now its time to help yourself. Jim wasn't the only one who was shot." Blair stopped his march to look at me. Confusion showed clearly on his face. "You were shot too."

He looked down at himself. "No this is Jim's blood."

"Some of it is yes Blair, but most of it is yours. Please let a doctor look at you. Jim is going to need you healthy. Please Blair." I knew how desperate I sounded but I had to get through to him. It must have worked because he nodded once and sat on the gurney.

Not fifteen minutes after I arrived, Blair Sandburg was on his way to surgery to remove the bullet fragment from his side.

Thankfully my men, listen to me 'my men' like that's all they are to me, yeah right they are my best friends, were put into the same room. So here I sit praying that I don't loose either one of them. Jim took two shots to the chest, one sat dangerously close to his heart and the other tore through his lung, collapsing it. He came through surgery well. Blair on the other hand had lost so much he was almost too to survive surgery but the fighter that he is fought for every breath and every beat of his heart to be here for his sentinel, his partner, his friend.

When I first arrived at the hospital, Brian Rafe asked how did the stakeout go so wrong, how did Johnson know that they were there. Apparently, Johnson had a scanner that picked up the police frequency. He heard dispatch call in to orders to extend the stakeout. Johnson was found dead several days later of a drug overdose. Too bad, so sad, not.

Both Rafe and Brown are seeing the police psychologist. They were pretty badly shaken over seeing their fellow detectives and friends gunned down in front of them. Me? Well, I am talking to you. Getting phone calls at 3 am is never a good thing. 

I have not been home much lately. I spend my spare time talking to my friends, hoping that they will open their eyes and tell me to go home. Two weeks later it did not happened. Two months later it still has not happened. 

Doctor Alveretti came to me to talk about sending Jim and Blair to a long-term health care facility. I have to agree with him. They are in a coma, taking up bed space. We agreed to send them to Sebastian's Hospice, an affiliate of the monastery that Jim and Blair stayed at. On Monday they would be moved.

Here it is Saturday night and I am sitting at the hospital. The nurses brought in a nice comfy chair to replace the hard plastic one that usually sat in this room. I look thoughtfully around the room that has been a second home for too many weeks. Not much longer. 

As my eyes finished their sweep of the room, they fell again upon the face of the fallen sentinel. I was shocked to say the least to see a thin slit of blue. I immediately pushed the call button then took his hand in mine. 

"Jim," I whispered not sure if his senses were spiking, "can you hear me?" He lightly squeezed my hand. "Thank God."

Doctor Alveretti came into the room and started check Jim's vitals. He spoke softly to his patient. "Hello Detective." He told Jim about everything he did before he did it. "Everything seems to be coming along nicely. You had worried us when you didn't wake up, as did your partner." 

At that Jim's heartbeat skyrocketed. He shifted his eyes to locate the familiar heartbeat. Tears filled his eyes when he saw Blair in the bed next to his. "What?"

I stepped in to answer this query. "One of the bullets went through you and hit Blair. He lost a lot of blood."

"OK?" 

"There were no complications. Now is just a waiting game until he wakes up." Doctor Alveretti explained.

Before anyone could respond, Blair too woke up. "'im"

"Is fine." Alveretti told him. "And so are you."

After I knew Jim and Blair had both gone back to sleep, I slipped out. I went to the chapel and thanked God for allowing my friends to come back to me.

I called Henri and Brian to let them know that our friends had finally woken up. Who says no one has anything good to say at 3 am?


End file.
